I have a very short to-do list this week, because nearly everything on my to-do list is large. I’ve handled the birthday present shopping and the letter writing and most of the errands and calls to get things fixed and thises and thats, or else I’ve put them off to next week.

So basically there is a flowchart with two questions on it, each with two outcomes. 1. Do I have a glass of water readily to hand? If not, get one. (This is not about some nonsense someone came up with about an abstract number of glasses of water everybody should supposedly drink every day. This is about the med I personally am on, which turns people into raisins. Seriously, this stuff makes you turn your head around and drink from the shower, because the length of time to wash and condition long hair is too long to go without water really.)

2. Do I feel good enough to work on book revisions? If so, do so. If not, go curl up on the couch with someone else’s book.

Seriously, that’s…pretty much the list. I have a couple of stories to work on also. But I have the revision letter from my insightful agent, and I don’t have a lot else on the list for the week, and (possibly not coincidentally) I’m not up for a lot either, so…it’s sort of a pure feeling, when it comes right down to it. Everything is very straightforward. You throw the ball, you hit the ball, you catch the ball. No, that’s something else. Drink the water, pet the dog, revise the book. Yes. That’s the one.

(Thank you for the gentle laugh of recognition that gave me. I am a sad beast today because our beloved ur-tree, our fully mature and-then-some silver maple, is being laid to rest in a planned ceremony rather than making its end this spring in a crash of the wind's choosing. Hadn't expected to be in tears all morning, and this exchange is helping me deal. So thanks.)

The arborist people are excellent and skilled. The guy in charge knows we love the tree, and they are doing right by it. Because we're sure it wouldn't want to fall on anybody's house or something; it's always been a most considerate tree that way. Laid two twelve-foot limbs down once, in a storm, one on either side of the car and running exactly parallel to it. Thoughtful tree. And one of my favorite places to photograph shinies. I maybe will make a little photo collection of my favorite of its boles.

And I am now cheered up a bit by photos of seabirds, thanks to someone who asked after some art about gannets. (Which turn out to be cool weird aircraft birds, whoah.) Anyhow, apparently if you are a giant petrel, and a shark cruises up looking for trouble, the thing you do is put your head under water and BITE HIM ON THE NOSE.

There is something about knocking sharks on the nose that is just intrinsically funny, I think. (I hadn't heard of the biting on the nose by petrels, but I have a fourteen-year-old clipping from a UK newspaper on how to survive shark attacks in Thai waters, and the advice is to bop the shark on the snout to confuse it.)